For Her Only: Antonello Brothers, #2

By Kayelle Allen

Kin ambassador Fawni Ruh visits the capitol planet of the empire and meets security expert, Khyff, a human. A death in her family forces Fawni to return home, but she can't bear to part with Khyff and takes him along. Her family demands she cast out the human, or abdicate her future rule.

When Fawni searches for an alternative, she stumbles upon Khyff's secret. The cover-up, if exposed, will betray her world to its enemies, and bare her family to open shame. Her duty is clear. She must shun this human. Yet how can she leave Khyff to suffer in the darkness that binds his heart?

To save his brother, Khyff must seduce and then betray an alien ambassador whose people devastated his family.

Hatred for the aliens burns within him, but unless he can learn to embrace the past, face the demons he swore he'd forget, and find a way to forgive, his brother will die.

But how can he hope for a happy ever after, when his hidden truth is her people's hidden lie...

• Language: English
• Publisher: Romance Lives Forever Books
• Release date: Aug 10, 2015
• ISBN: 9798201589875

Kayelle Allen

Kayelle Allen writes stories filled with misbehaving droids, immortal gamers, and warriors who purr. She is the author of multiple books, novellas, and short stories, a US Navy veteran, and has been married so long she's tenured.

Book preview

For Her Only

Antonello Brothers Series

Kayelle Allen

www.RomanceLivesForeverBooks.com

Table of Contents

Title Page

For Her Only (Antonello Brothers)

After you read this story, will you dare to enter the Empire? | Look for your entry ticket at the end. | Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-one

Chapter Twenty-two

Chapter Twenty-three

Chapter Twenty-four

Chapter Twenty-five

Chapter Twenty-six

Chapter Twenty-seven

Chapter Twenty-eight

Epilogue

About Kayelle Allen

Sign up for Kayelle Allen's Mailing List

Also By Kayelle Allen

Books in this series include

At the Mercy of Her Pleasure

For Her Only

Her Crystal Clear Truth

Complete Set Antonello Brothers (boxed set)

Bonus story—Her Hidden Truth

Dedication

This book is dedicated to Jean Paquin. Thank you for all the years of friendship and for walking through the Tarthian Empire with me.

It's also dedicated to my beta reader Barbara with sincere thanks for all her encouragement.

And always, always and forever, to my husband, who supports me one hundred percent. I love you. I couldn't do this without you.

Acknowledgements

My thanks to my son Jamin, the talented artist who inspires me with new images for the Empire and wherever else my imagination takes me. My thanks to my son Joel, whose knack for numbers and science helped me with much of the scientific imagery behind my story empire and its immortals.

After you read this story, will you dare to enter the Empire?

Look for your entry ticket at the end.

Chapter One

Tarthian Empire, Tarth

Tarth City, Kelthian District, Khyff's apartment

Birit 45, 4664 Tradestandard date

Welcome home, Mr. Antonello.

Khyffen Antonello flinched at the disembodied android voice. "I am never going to get used to that. IdBot?"

The home security system pinged in response.

Didn't I ask you to call me Khyff?

Yes, Mr. Antonello. Would you like to know the dates of your requests at this time?

No, I would not. Just change the greeting. Call me Khyff.

Yes, Mr. Antonello. Greetings and welcome protocols are found in the home security settings in the main system. Would you like to adjust them at this time?

No. His shoulders sagged. Remind me later. I've been away for a month, okay? I'm a little tired.

Yes, Mr. Antonello. A reminder has been scheduled. Locks activated with an audible click, and a slight increase in pressure on his ears told Khyff the flat had been sealed. Premises secure.

Khyff dropped his travel bag. The long commute had left him stiff, and he rolled his shoulders. In the living area, he swiped two fingers across a table and frowned at the dust. The cleaning droids had been skimping again. Not every machine was as efficient as idBot.

Might be a good thing. Khyff stretched, working out kinks. IdBot, play music. The blare of hard rock made Khyff jump. He clamped both hands over his ears. Drums thundered and boomed behind a wailing voice he'd heard on tour every day for the past month as security liaison for Wind and Thunder. End music.

The silence made him groan with pleasure. That's better. He lowered his hands. IdBot, how did that music get on my setup?

Music added by roommate Senth Antonello.

My brother is back.

Affirmative.

That meant trouble.

'You could've warned me my brother was home when I got in the door."

Yes, Mr. Antonello. Greetings and welcome protocols are found in the home security system set—

Never mind. Khyff rubbed his temples. A tantalizing whiff of baking cookies made his stomach growl. He entered the kitchen. The foodsynther hadn't worked since he moved in, and nothing sat on the counters.

The magnets on the fridge lit up when Khyff approached, flashing all the local specials from restaurants within their delivery area. He sniffed. None of them smelled like cookies. He'd tossed out the one from Zhkarr's. The Kin fish market restaurant might appeal to some, but Khyff gagged thinking about it. That place was for Kin, and he steered as far clear of the feline humanoids as possible.

He sniffed the air and followed the scent to his brother's bedroom door.

Senth? He knocked and opened the door. Man, those cookies smell so—

Senth grabbed at bed sheets. Beneath him, his fiancée, NarrAy Jorlan, yelped and covered herself with both arms.

Sorry! Khyff snapped the door shut. Sorry! He rubbed the back of his neck. "Oh, man. That was more of Senth than I ever wanted to see."

In the kitchen, Khyff opened and shut cupboards, clattering cups and spoons for tea. The image of NarrAy naked burned into his thoughts and refused to go away.

His half-brother emerged from the bedroom and padded toward him, Senth's movements smooth as a cat's. He wore denim jeans but no shirt, and his tight abs gave mute evidence of his strength. Since Khyff had seen him last, his little brother had put on height. Khyff was now the shorter one. Though a free man, Senth wore his curly hair even longer than he had as a slave. It fell down his back.

Senth narrowed his feline eyes. Except for his eyes and fangs, he looked human, until you got him mad.

Sorry, Sen. Khyff stepped behind the counter, putting space between himself and the HalfKin. Khyff's stomach fluttered. I know NarrAy's pheromones smell like butter and vanilla. I should have known it was her and not cookies, but I didn't think. I haven't seen you in nine solar months.

Senth seated himself on a stool at the island counter and played with a spoon, watching Khyff with an expectant, angry look. A low growl rumbled. The corner of Senth's mouth twitched, revealing fangs.

Sweat prickled all over Khyff's skin. His stomach lurched. It was an accident, okay? He fought to keep his voice calm. Senth had once ripped out a man's throat with those fangs. Didn't you hear the Wind and Thunder music come on? You left it keyed, and when I came in, it—

A twinkle lit his brother's eyes.

Khyff slammed the flat of his hand on the counter. You were gonna sit there and let me ramble on about how sorry I am, weren't you?

Senth grinned. Nah, I always knew you were sorry.

You royal scam-butt.

Senth laughed. Scammed you good, Bro.

Khyff ran a hand through his sweat-soaked hair. I thought you were angry.

Senth snarled like a wildcat, fingers hooked and clawing the air playfully. He laughed again.

Khyff swore under his breath. Real funny.

Junk me, Bro. He stood and came toward him.

Khyff flinched, and backed away from him.

Senth stopped, tilted his head, and frowned. An expression close to pity crossed his face. Notta boasted you clean. Leave me sly for it.

You know I don't speak street. Use Etymis and talk like an adult.

His brother gave him a long look. Straightening his shoulders, Senth shook back the long curls falling into his face. 'Sorry. I shouldn't have teased you.' There. That suit you better?

Nothing to forgive. Khyff picked up the teapot and held it out. Fill that, will you?

Senth looked down at it a moment before taking it from Khyff's hands. Sure, Bro. He put it under the autofill faucet.

Khyff wiped his brow with the back of a hand and stayed on the opposite side of the island counter from Senth. How about you and NarrAy lock the door next time?

His brother made a brief, placating gesture. Sorry. Thought you were still out of town. The wet teapot hissed on the burner. Bro, when you gonna get that foodsynther fixed? A person could starve to death in here. Only Kin restaurant nearby is Zhkarr's, and who can afford them? Senth was smiling, but Khyff stayed out of reach until his brother sat back down.

What have you and NarrAy been doing? Other than what I interrupted.

No new coins. Sorry—same stuff, different day. Senth's work for the All People's Liberation Army entailed theft, and NarrAy's involved interrogation. She was second-in-command to the leader of the rebellion. Neither talked about it, except to say they were a team. Likely all they could say.

Khyff leaned against the island counter while stuffing loose tea leaves into a ceramic ball. Will you be home long? He eased the tea into the heating water.

We're on leave until after the wedding and our honeymoon. Six weeks. He tapped the tip of the spoon, flipped it, and caught it midair. What's up with you?

Saint-Cyr keeps me busy. Khyff retrieved the bag he'd dropped near the door. Had me supervising security for a rock group.

You? Hanging out with a rock group? Can't picture that.

He opened the bag. Kin rock group.

You boastin' me.

Nope. Not exaggerating. Khyff rummaged in the bag until he found the button he'd obtained. You can wear this button, attach it to clothing or a backpack, or download it into your music player. Touch the top. See for yourself. He set it down. Emblazoned with a lightning bolt, the chip had its own glow. Got it straight from the group. New material. Not out yet. He chewed his lower lip, awaiting Senth's reaction.

His brother pressed the chip's center. A mini-replica of Wind and Thunder appeared on the counter. All wore traditional Kin leather, the females with gem-encrusted hook knives at their belts. Tovar, the male, wore his drumsticks the same way.

Senth's pupils flashed green like a cat's in the light, still dilated from exposure to NarrAy's pheromones. These guys are the best. I love this group, Bro.

I know. Khyff sat on the stool opposite him. Press it again.

When he did, it changed to dynamic view. One of the singers purred like a cat, and then added, Hello, Senth. Her low, sultry voice continued in a brief greeting in Felis. Her brother Tovar spoke from behind the others. "Hey, Senth, dok cho, sah. Each of the five greeted Senth by name, their lead singer last. Sahkeet tahkro, rokk nahee. Deel. Nah rone dah. Gelina Fasra tossed long, beaded braids over a shoulder. Nife dak rohk, Keef." The vid faded.

What was that? NarrAy leaned against the doorjamb. I couldn't make out what they said. Even with her sun-streaked hair mussed and tousled, beauty radiated from NarrAy. A Better, she'd been designed in the womb and created with features so symmetrical and faultless she might have been a doll. Her simple white cotton sundress showed off her golden skin and perfect build.

Khyff did his best not to stare at her like some love-struck puppy. She was his brother's woman. But Khyff couldn't look away. He propped his chin on one hand.

Senth held out a hand to her, and she went into his arms. He kissed her on the nose. Khyff supervised security for a Wind and Thunder concert. He got me a personagraph.

Cool. His future sister-in-law regarded him from the circle of Senth's arms. Hi, Khyff.

Sorry, he mouthed.

She mouthed back, No problem. The petite woman's head reached Senth's shoulder while he was sitting on the stool. Did you understand any of what they said, Khyff?

All the Felis I know are the cuss words Senth taught me.

"Ow! Senth pulled away from NarrAy. What did you pinch me for?"

She gave him a playful smile. Teaching your brother dirty words.

You use them. When she pinched him again, he laughed and clasped both her hands in his, then swept them behind her and tugged her up against him. Stop that, you terror. He kissed her. It's not like he didn't know any in Etymis. He taught me some choice ones. I don't see you poking Khyff.

Khyff threw up both hands. For all I know, Gelina was cussing me out for being so strict about rules.

NarrAy smiled up at Senth. What did the boy say? He's kind of cute. I like his tufted little ears.

Senth nuzzled her cheek. You don't need to be lusting after some Kin hottie when you've got me.

Khyff made a rude snort, which earned him a glare from his brother.

What did he say, sweetie? NarrAy smiled up at Senth.

"Dok cho, sah."

Oh... NarrAy nodded. "Hello, Brother. Sahkeet is brother, right?"

Right. Senth rubbed noses with her, and they shared a smacking kiss.

NarrAy pulled her hands free and reached for the chip. This is glowing.

Poke the top. Senth wrapped his arms around her. Let's watch it again.

The personagraph ran through its cycle and shut off.

That was nice, Khyff. NarrAy smiled at him. "Did she say something about humans? I thought I heard the word nahee."

"Nahee means 'not us', Senth answered. Kin use it for Tyrans and Chiasmii too. He kissed NarrAy on the cheek. 'Sahkeet tahkro, rokk nahee' means 'Your brother is cool, for not being one of us.'"

Khyff groaned at that. "She made a point of calling me nahee the first few days, like that was my name. When I refused to answer, she started calling me Keef, because she said Khyff sounded 'too human' for her mouth. That bugged me, 'cause I constantly get asked if Khyff is a Kin name. I was born before Felidae was even discovered. He nudged his chin toward the music chips. What else?"

"Deel is a simple word, but its meaning is complicated. 'To the death for honor,' maybe."

Go on. NarrAy leaned against Senth.

"'Nah rone dah' means... Well, I'm not sure if that means no one sneaked into the show or no one stalked them, but the last part, 'Nife dak rohk,' is an idiom. Kind of the way we'd say, 'Back at you, man,' or 'Be cool.' She was talking to Khyff. I think she had a thing for you, Bro."

Khyff snorted. Like I'd ever want a mangy Kin.

Mangy? Senth's brows lowered. Did you forget who you're talking to?

NarrAy looked from one man to the other, then moved out from between them and around to the other end of the island.

We've been over this, Sen. Khyff heard the impatient ring in his own voice and tried to curb it, without success. Fatigue clawed at his reserves of energy. You look almost human. Why do you want to be accepted by those animals, anyway?

Kin aren't animals, Khyff. We've been over that, too.

Yes, they are. He fought the rage strangling his thoughts. They tried to kill you the minute you were born. They didn't want you. They hated you on sight.

"You mean you hated me, Khyff. You didn't want me. Senth stood, shoving the stool out of the way. If it weren't for me being a half-breed, your mother might still be alive."

"Our mother. He leaped to his feet. She cried over you for days when the Kin stole you from her. Nothing I said or did made any difference. Khyff braced both hands on the counter. I was a child, Sen. I couldn't help her, but I didn't know that then. I thought it was my fault. All I knew was because of you, they threw us out, and Mama wouldn't stop crying. She abandoned me because of you."

NarrAy gasped and covered her mouth, eyes welling with tears. Oh, Khyff. I'm so sorry you were hurt like that.

All the strength drained out of him, taking the anger with it. He sat.

Senth slid a hand across the table and touched the tips of his fingers to Khyff's. With a male economy of words, that expressed enough.

NarrAy sidestepped around the counter and lifted her arms to Khyff.

He enfolded her in a warm, safe embrace, arms wrapped all the way around her tiny frame. He drew her between his knees and pressed his face against her neck.

Two years before, she'd rescued him after a savage attack that had landed him in the hospital. Since then, he'd allowed no one but her to touch him. Senth got a rare handshake.

He relished the pressure of her gentle arms around him, the rapture of her skin against his. Khyff risked chemical dependence, holding her. Even with short exposure, the touch of a Better addicted. She'd accidentally addicted him once, and he'd suffered while weaning himself. His brother could never leave this woman. Never love another. Senth was hers.

By new laws passed recently, NarrAy must cover her entire body in public. Khyff shouldn't risk addiction again. Shouldn't let her touch him. Shouldn't... He hugged her closer.

Her touch soothed, tranquilized. How could anyone expect a woman as loving as NarrAy to hide from the world? She wasn't dangerous. Already, the darkness of Khyff's soul was lifting, evaporating. Fading. How could he have forgotten how wonderful she smelled? How sweet she was? How comforting it was to be held?

The teapot whistled.

I'll get it, Khyff. NarrAy stepped back.

The absence of her touch left Khyff bereft, and dropped him back into darkness. He turned away. Careful not to let Senth see it, he clutched one hand over his heart.

NarrAy moved the pot off the heat. Is it ready to pour?

Khyff grunted. He turned back and wrapped both hands around a cup as if it were his lifeline to sanity.

NarrAy climbed onto a stool between him and his brother. While she spoke to Senth, Khyff concentrated on breathing evenly. What would it be like to make love to that woman? Press his body against hers? What was he thinking? What kind of man lusted after his brother's woman? A miserable, lying cheat, that's what.

His brother said something. Khyff had no clue what. He blinked, focusing with effort.

Bro? You okay?

Fine. He cleared his throat, willing his breathing to calm. Sorry. What did you say?

What's your next job? Do you know yet?

Guarding ambassadors at a strip club.

"Ffffftt! You get paid to hang out at strip clubs? Senth grabbed NarrAy's hand before she could pinch him. Not that I'd ever want to do that, of course— he glanced at NarrAy —but, man, Bro, what a life."

Senth. NarrAy shook her head. Honestly.

At least she hasn't forgotten the type of slavery Khyff had endured before Saint-Cyr helped free him.

Senth looked from one to the other and lifted his shoulders, hands out. What?

For Women Only doesn't guard men. NarrAy glanced at Khyff. They're female ambassadors, and it's a male strip club.

"Oh, ffffftt. Sorry, Bro."

NarrAy touched Khyff's hand. You're sure the job will be over before the wedding?

Saint-Cyr promised to be at the wedding too. Don't worry, NarrAy. I'll stand up for Sen and make sure he says 'I do' on time.

Good thing. Because there's no way I'm letting your brother back out of marrying me.

No way I would, sweetie. Senth placed a hand over hers. You've got me good and hooked. And don't you love it?

NarrAy giggled. Yes, I do.

While they kissed, Khyff turned his head.

Chapter Two

Outside the Tarthian Empire

Felidae, Ruh Township

Drustin Ruh's Lodge

Mehfawni Ruh found her youngest brother, Dallon, where she thought he'd be, in their favorite childhood hiding place. He leaned back against the tree trunk, high up under the canopy of leaves, with his legs stretched out on a massive branch, ankles crossed. He hadn't seen her yet.

She savored the warm, dappled shade. The birds of high summer cawed in the trees. The creek burbled over its stones, rushing to join the river downstream.

The sploosh of a rock hitting the water disrupted the solitude. She flicked her ears toward the sound. Another rock, heavier and bigger, plopped into the stream. Ripples broke the calm surface. Dallon was pitching them from the tree.

He sat up, legs dangling over either side of the branch, and braced himself on his hands as he leaned down, peering through the leaves.

His ears laid straight back against his head. I'm not going back, Mehfawni.

She sniffed. He didn't smell right. Something stale sullied the usual tanned-leather scent of his pride.

Why not, Dal?

Grandmama didn't think I was civil when she introduced me to my mate-to-be. So she whipped me and then gave her the box of rods she and Mama use to punish me. He slung one leg over the branch and dug his claws into the bark, the soft leather of his moccasins bracing his feet as he climbed down. He brushed off his formal leathers as he approached. His usual teenage swagger had been downgraded to a noticeable limp.

Oh, Dallon. Mehfawni touched his face. Red rimmed his eyes. Wet trails meandered through the pale amber furskin below his cheeks. His long lashes stuck together in spiky points. I'm sorry.

He never cried over whippings, no matter how many stripes Mama or Grandmama put across his backside. Damaged pride brought out these tears.

My future mate said if I didn't learn to be polite, she'd do more than whip me, and that her chief mate would beat me too. Can he do that, Fawni?

Papa's never whipped anyone, but I guess he could if he wanted to. Papa doesn't like conflict. Maybe her mate won't either.

I thought once I got married, no one would hit me anymore.

Someone's always hitting someone. We're Kin. If we're not hitting, we're biting. She shrugged. Still, the thought of a stranger hitting her brother made her ears twitch. Behave yourself, Dal. Make them happy. They won't bother you.

The youngest of three daughters and two sons, Dallon was by far the most spoiled, despite the fact that he got more whippings than the rest of them combined.

Willful, their mother said.

Prideful, their father agreed.

Dallon said he preferred the word adventurous.

Come on. Let's sit by the creek and talk. She held his hand.

They dropped onto the edge of the bank. Dallon lay on his stomach and trailed his fingers through the water, then placed his head on his folded arms.

Mehfawni picked a white vulit and tickled his ear tuft with it. He'd inherited the long tufts of hair on his ear tips from their father's side of the family. Only the Fasra clan had them. Dallon slapped her hand away, so she did it again.

Quit, Fawni. Annoyance filled his voice, but he smiled.

She poked him with a fingertip. Make me.

Dallon launched himself and grabbed her in a rolling tackle. She squealed; he laughed, and the two rolled in the grass, grappling each other, careful of claws. She bit him on the shoulder. He bit her arm. She sank her fangs into his leather jacket to hold him down and tickled him.

He laughed, writhing and arching his back, trying to escape.

She let her fangs find his flesh and bared one claw against his belly.

"Ow! Okay, I give. Laughing, he held out his hands, palms down, ears out at the sides. I give."

She released him. Oh, no. You've got grass stains all over your leathers.

He looked down at the green stripes and smears across the knees of his pants and the front of his heavily beaded jacket. Grandmama will kill me. His ears went out and back. When she and Mama see this, I'll get it again.

No. I'll tell them it was my fault. She helped him brush at the green marks, to no avail. Don't worry. I'll take the blame. I won't let them punish you, Dallon. I promise.

One ear came forward hopefully.

I'll take the blame. Don't worry. She lay back on the grass and patted the spot next to her, gazing up at the sky. Did you ever see such a perfect blue?

Dallon lay beside her, hands folded across his stomach. Not a cloud anywhere.

Mehfawni turned on her side toward him. Dallon's profile was classic Kin, generations of good breeding in every line. His slanted eyes, flat feline nose, and high cheekbones proclaimed him Ruh clan as much as the obsidian beads woven into his honey-colored braids. His furskin was a lighter shade of amber, like hers. When he grew into his beard, no doubt it would bear the same red tones as their father's, if he didn't shave it. Her own tawny hair had reddish highlights in the sun.

She loved each of her brothers and sisters dearly, but Dallon was the baby. He held a special place in her heart.

Marriage won't be all that bad, she assured him.

Dallon levered himself into a sitting position, arms wrapped around his knees. You had to go and spoil a great moment, didn't you? He glared at her with reproach. You're as bad as Mama.

I'm sorry, Dal. She sat up, cross-legged. Marriage is tradition. You know Kin and tradition. We don't call breeding First Duty for nothing.

But, Fawni, females don't marry until they're in their twenties. Let a male get one month past his fifteenth birthday, and he's past his prime.

"Every male gets married at fifteen. It's the beginning of your superior breeding age. It has to be that way. A female isn't even fertile until she's at least twenty-two. Daughters bear children. Sons breed them. Accept the facts, Dal. It's not like you'll ever want for anything, marrying the Tzesar of the Falehla clan. She'll provide well for you."

What if I wanted to take care of myself? Human males do.

You're not human. Kin males are different. You're not designed to be self-sufficient. You're designed to support a mate, take care of children, and keep house.

He arched his hands, releasing claws. He growled with frustration.

Why the creator gave males claws, I don't know. Mehfawni poked him, trying to tease him into a smile. You never use them for anything but braiding hair and playing bead games.

Dallon huffed. He raked his fingers through his hair. I'm being serious, Fawni.

I'm sorry. I shouldn't have tried to joke about it. Try not to be so upset. Let yourself be pampered. Females would love to be able to stay home all day. You're young. Enjoy yourself.

Today, I'm young enough for Mama to take a birch rod to, and tomorrow I'll be old enough to get married. When is it I become a grown-up? I'd like to know when it's coming, so my attention doesn't wander at that exact moment. I don't want to miss it.

Mehfawni wanted to laugh and tried to bite it back—unsuccessfully. Sorry, Dal. You have such a funny way of putting things. She hooked a claw around one strand of his hair and moved it back from his face. Go on. I'm listening.

Mama makes me so mad. He lowered his brows and canted his ears down and back. His nostrils flared. I'm fifteen, Fawni. At fifteen, human males are legal adults.

Yes, but Dallon, fifteen in human years and fifteen in our years are not the same thing.

I know. We have four hundred and fifty solar days in our year and Tarthians have three hundred and sixty, so technically I'm almost nineteen in tradestandard years.

And who told you that?

Not telling. He lifted his nose in the air. I'd get her in trouble. It's not fair that I have to get married, Fawni. Humans my age can vote and—

What do males know about voting?

That's the point. Dallon leaned one hand on the grass and turned toward her. I should have a chance to learn about all that stuff. Instead, I'll be married off to a politician and hidden behind the walls of her lodge, servicing her and taking care of her children until I'm too old to do anything else. Like Papa.

You make it sound like a death sentence. Papa's happy. You will be too. Wait and see.

He turned away. I thought you said you'd listen.

I am. She touched his arm. But it's time to deal with reality. Kin males don't do well outside a family setting and the security of a lodge's walls. We want the best for you, Dallon. That's all.

Tovar Fasra isn't married, and he's happy.

"The Fasra clan burned his likeness in khhanahk. They declared him dead to them. Don't tell me you want to be like him."

All he did was leave the clan, Fawni.

He did more than that. He used his knowledge of the sacred drums for entertainment. And the entire group shares him in bed.

His fine brows lowered. They do not. He has sex with his two cousins. We have sex with ours. He shrugged. It's bed play. So what?

Tovar is not the kind of male you want to be like. He uses contraceptives.

Both ears lifted. What are those?

Despite the isolation of their setting, Mehfawni glanced over her shoulder and lowered her voice. Birth control. A way to prevent pregnancy.

Dallon's eyes showed white all